


The Temptations of the Flesh

by DestructiveEmpathy



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Smut, Tumblr, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 21:30:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13796733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestructiveEmpathy/pseuds/DestructiveEmpathy
Summary: Written for Tumblr's @madwriterscorner. Prompt was 'Hematolagnia' between Hannibal and Will. (Has potential to be extended if there's a demand.)Will's dreams have been growing bloodier and bloodier and Hannibal has a suggestion that might 'cure' him. But it's not just for Will's benefit.





	The Temptations of the Flesh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madwriterscorner](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=madwriterscorner).



“Dreams often mirror the subject’s desires, Will. Do you desire such acts?” Hannibal sat across from Will, with one leg crossed over the other and a glass of fine red in his hand. It seemed only suitable he serve red this evening, given the subject matter. Hannibal did hope the symbolism wasn’t lost on Will. With all he’d gone through lately, William had been missing the trail of breadcrumbs Hannibal had set. 

Will stared at the wine as it swirled in its place. He hadn’t looked up from Hannibal this whole ‘appointment’ and wasn’t thinking of doing so any time soon. “Or reflect the subject’s realities. If I see blood at work, surely I’ll see it in my dreams.” 

“Of course.” Hannibal’s lips curved up and his eyes grew darker with mischief. “But you seem to disregard the other nature within your dreams.” A glint flickered in his eye when he heard Will’s breath hitch. “Your recent cases have not been of a sexual nature, have they?” 

“It could mean that I’m just overworked and undersexed, Hannibal.” Will’s stomach flipped at his own admission. 

“So you claim. But perhaps you are only ‘undersexed’ because you are afraid. What are you afraid of, William?”

Will gave a tight, bitter smile as he shook his head. “No, it’s not that.” 

“No?” 

“I’m just- I can’t just have a one night stand. And no one I know will want to pursue  _that_ kind of relationship with me.” He gave a gruff laugh and downed the last of his wine before he set the glass down. 

Hannibal stayed silent for a moment, weighing their progress here. It wouldn’t benefit him to act now so he kept his own admission silent. “Is this because of Alana’s admission?” 

Will gave a slow nod before he stood. He walked to the window and then back towards the bookcases. “Alana is the only woman I feel…” Will sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “And then there’s these dreams. I can’t rightfully ask any partner to accept what’s going on in my head. If not Alana, no one else would understand.” 

“Are you certain about that?” Hannibal watched Will pace as he was wont to do when under pressure. It was a sure sign they were close to an admission. “There are small subcultures within the BDSM community who would understand if this is a sexual desire.” 

“I told you, Hannibal, the blood thing is just because of my work.” 

“So you keep claiming, Will. But perhaps you should at least try. There is no harm in exploring hematolagnia in a safe, consensual environment.” 

Will scrunched up his face like a child about to have a tantrum. “Hema- you want me to explore blood play, Hannibal? Sex, with blood?” 

“I am simply offering solutions to your nightmares, Will.” Hannibal set his glass down and walked to his desk. He took his time as he carefully folded through his rolodex and pulled out a shiny black card. “Here.” He approached Will with it hand offered it up to him. 

Will hesitated before he took the card. It looked like it belonged to a normal men’s club, if it weren’t for the gold embossed writing that told him otherwise. Will’s brows creased and he glanced between Hannibal and the card. “You want me to go  _here_?” He didn’t dare asking Hannibal why exactly he had the card to an exclusive BDSM club. 

“The owner is a good friend and will ensure you are given the best treatment.” Hannibal leaned against his desk and folded his hands together. “This will help solve the ‘undersexed’ aspect, if not the bloodiness of your dreams. If it does not work, I give you my word I shall prescribe what you have asked for.” 

  
Will didn’t know why he’d agreed, but now he was here Will’s heart was hammering against his ribcage. He wasn’t even in the place, but just the sight of the black marble facade and gold plaque told him that this was too much. Too much money, too much opulence and too much everything. 

But he stood with the business card in hand wearing his ‘best’. His best, which included his salmon shirt and a new black sweater. Everything else he’d worn for work. He’d left the Old Spice off, though. The stuff gave him a headache at the best of times. 

“Ah, Mr William Graham?” A young woman holding an iPad finally answered the large black marble door. “Welcome to Nyx. I am Charlotte, your hostess for the evening. If you’d like to follow me.” 

Will obeyed, clueless as to how to behave in a place like this. The name fitted, the long corridor led down into an even darker cloakroom. It had a fireplace not too dissimilar to one Hannibal had in his own house. In fact, it wouldn’t be a surprise if Hannibal got his inspiration from this place. If it weren’t a BDSM club, of course. 

“If you’d like to leave all of your belongings with Edward,” Charlotte said. 

“Even my money?” Will said as he handed over his coat and bag.  

“Everything. Especially your phone and ID.”

The whole thing put Will further on edge, but he obeyed. Hannibal had promised this would stop his nightmares. He handed over the last of his things and said, “No turning back now.” 

Charlotte led him through a set of double doors that opened up to what seemed to be a proper gentlemen’s club - not the type with scantily clad women. “This is the ‘bar’,” Charlotte said, obviously simplifying the names for Will. “Here you can get your drinks and mingle with others. Many men just use this room after work to avoid returning home to their wives.” 

Will glanced around and wetted his lips, dry from his nerves. He didn’t want to speak in case he let slip his reason for being here. 

Charlotte got him a drink of whiskey and continued the tour. “The ‘club’ is through those doors, there. I would usually have to tell you the rules, but the owner assured me you’re under recommendation of Doctor Lecter. That’s good enough for me.” She directed Will to the bathrooms next and then the backrooms, should he find a ‘suitable companion’ for the evening. 

“The dancers in the club are not escorts. You cannot ask them to join you in the backrooms. You can put a ‘toy box’ on your tab and there is call button for emergencies under every nightstand. The club’s safeword is ‘Vanilla’. Enjoy.” 

Will was left standing with his whiskey at the bar, mind whirling with all of the information. He took his time watching the other men smoking and drinking. Many seemed to know each other, discussing work and life as if this wasn’t a BDSM club. 

Will made sure to drink three whiskeys before he dared enter the club. 

The low thrum of music sent the bass through his bones. The lights were all blues, whites and silvers as they flashed around him. Now this was the place Will had expected of the club - and not of any place Hannibal visited. Women and men alike danced on poles and in cages high above the dancing throng.

The people here all looked like they held down jobs with seven figure salaries, their dresses and suits worth more than a year of Will’s money. 

Will was grateful for the heavy beat and thick fog of lust in the air, suddenly feeling invisible to the crowds. He watched the people as the heat rose to his cheeks and he was slowly drawn to the dance floor. This whiskey had to be stronger than his usual. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” A voice familiar broke through the music, lips close to his ear so he could hear it. The breath misted against his neck and ear. 

Will gave a sharp nod, not realising that he’d been dancing for hours. 

A hand caught his own and pulled him from the throng of dancers. Will followed his new guide into a side corridor. He heard the man talk to someone before guiding Will into a back room. 

Hannibal locked the door behind them. 

Will sobered up and stared at Hannibal without saying a word. 

“Come, William.” Hannibal reached out for Will’s cheek, cupping it like he was made of the most delicate crystal. 

“Wh- What?” Will frowned and kept his eyes steady on Hannibal. “Hannibal, what are you doing?” 

“I am here to oversee your treatment.” If Hannibal could sound offended, that right there was it. “You do not believe I would leave a stranger responsible for the well-being of my friend as he explored a dangerous fetish, do you?” 

“You sent me here so I would be safe when I explored it. If that had been your concern all along, you’d have guided me through it in your office.” 

“True. This is also a partly selfish endeavour.” Hannibal sighed and dropped his head, playing the part of a guilty party. He then looked up to cup Will’s jaw. “When I sent you here, I did believe it was what’s best for you. But I’ve had time to think.” He stepped closer, chest to chest with Will. “I grew jealous, imagining anyone else helping you explore the deeper areas of your desire.” 

Before Will could think, Hannibal’s soft, hot lips were pressed against his own. Hannibal’s tenderness sent a thrill shooting through Will’s chest and he found himself returning the kiss. 

“Come.” Hannibal pulled away and dragged Will to the bed. “Undress.” 

Will swallowed and reached for his shirt. Hannibal’s eyes flicked between Will’s face and each button as his hands worked his shirt open. Will felt like he was about to be consumed and it did nothing but send more heat through his body. 

Hannibal only stopped watching when he pulled out a box from inside his coat. As he unfastened it, it was revealed to be a kit. Inside were gloves, condoms, scalpels and lubricant.

Will’s heart hammered against his chest. He dropped his shirt onto the floor. “Now, you,” he said, eyes not leaving the scalpel as it glinted in the dim light of the room. 

Hannibal raised an eyebrow and obeyed, a thrill shooting through him that he’d not felt for a very long time. “Lay on the bed.” He folded his shirt and lay it on a chair as he watched Will climb onto the bed. He climbed on after him and slowly pried Will’s shoes and socks off, then got to work on Will’s belt. 

To Will, Hannibal’s motions felt more methodical than romantic. His own body was on the verge of trembling with anticipation, but Hannibal looked as put together as ever. And that pissed him off. 

As Hannibal focussed on his own belt, Will grabbed a fistful of Hannibal’s hair and tugged him up into a biting kiss. He dragged his teeth over Hannibal’s lip and felt his legs being pushed apart. Hannibal’s hips fit perfectly between Will’s legs as they rocked together. 

Hannibal leaned back and pulled out a scalpel. He didn’t speak but his eyes were dark and his sharp teeth were bared as he dragged the blade over Will’s golden skin. It just nicked and a bloom of red rose up from the barest cut. A low moan escaped Will’s lips, obscuring the barest sound Hannibal made. 

“Fuck.” Will’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed back his lust and concentrated on the sting of the mark left. He could feel his blood trickle down over his nipple and the heat in his groin deepen. He’d never felt so present for sex. He was right there. Right there with Hannibal. 

“Gorgeous.” Hannibal sounded in reverence before he leaned in and dragged his tongue across the trail of blood and back down to nip the bud of Will’s rose coloured nipple. How beautiful would his Patroclus be bathed in blood and begging for more? The image made Hannibal grow hard in his trousers and drove his hips to rock harder against Will. The fabric between them was the only thing keeping him from moving too fast. 

“You’re quite delicious, Will.” Hannibal spoke into Will’s skin before he leaned back. He pressed his hand to Will’s abdomen and felt it flutter with each urge Will enjoyed. He admired Will’s flushed form panting beneath him so much that perhaps one day he would allow Will to slice him, too. 

The scalpel hovered at Will’s delicious Adam’s apple before Hannibal dragged the blade over Will’s collarbone instead. 

Will lay pinned beneath Hannibal, both too scared to move with that blade near him and desperate to feed his urge. When Hannibal sucked up his blood a second time, Will grabbed Hannibal’s arms and twisted until it was Hannibal pinned. 

Will sat straddling Hannibal for a long moment before he pinned Hannibal by the wrists. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but it wouldn’t be with a damn scalpel. 

Leaning in, Will sank his teeth into Hannibal’s shoulder and drew a hiss from him. The skin broke and the copper tang flooded Will’s senses. He pulled back with a splutter. 

“It is an acquired taste, my dear Will.” Hannibal sat up and cupped Will’s cheek. His shoulder throbbed where Will’s blunt teeth had forced their way in. “Kiss me.” 

Will glanced between Hannibal’s blood-smeared lips and the wound he’d inflicted before he kissed him. He pressed his tongue in and could taste their blood combining in their mouths. It was too late to think of the other implications sharing this bed and blood could offer. Hannibal had him hook line and sinker. 


End file.
